Interlude
by wazlib88
Summary: It was the best thing that had ever happened to them, but it had by no means been easy. Nine months after becoming Rose's mummy and daddy, Ron and Hermione go away for a weekend to reconnect in a familiar place.


A/N: Well. I tried. Whatever. That's all I can muster in explanation this week. Ollivander's Challenge, Week Seven: your OTP goes camping. Set June 2006. Prepare yourself for MARRIED FLUFF.

Disclaimer: You know. Not mine and all that.

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Ron sighed heavily as he stalked out of the magically enlarged tent to lie down on the cool ground just outside of it. It was a nice night; there were only a few clouds, and the stars were shining brightly in the vaguely familiar sky. Ron had certainly never thought he'd be here again, but at least he wasn't freezing his bollocks off this time.

He and Hermione had been having a bit of a rough time of it lately. Rose was nearly nine months old now - that marked nine months since Ron had last had any proper time alone with his wife. Things had reached a breaking point a few weeks ago, when a small disagreement had escalated into a shouting match, which had ended with them both shedding a few frustrated tears. Once they'd calmed down a bit, they'd decided it was high time they took a holiday - their third anniversary was approaching, after all, and it provided the perfect opportunity.

Unfortunately, raising a child meant they had no spare change of which to speak. So instead of heading off someplace exotic as they might have preferred, they'd dropped Rose off with Ron's parents for the weekend on their way to the Forest of Dean, where they'd set up camp only a short distance away from the place they'd been reunited at last more than eight years previously. They hadn't talked about their location, but they both knew why they'd chosen that particular spot. Though they had avoided revisiting any stop along the way of that fateful journey for years, enough time had now passed that stopping at the places that held happier memories didn't seem a completely appalling endeavor.

Camping was not romantic, Ron had decided shortly after their arrival. The idea had been born almost out of necessity, but now he found himself wishing they'd simply spent the weekend in the now abandoned Grimmauld Place. It was a good job neither of them wanted to be away from Rose long, because he didn't know that they'd be able to find anything to do if they were staying out here longer than one night. Well, they could find _something_ to do - they'd made love as soon as they'd set up the tent. It had been refreshing, really; most of their encounters since Rose's birth had been rushed, or even interrupted. They'd been able to take their time here, even have a nice cuddle and a nap afterward.

After a few restful hours, they'd cooked dinner over a small fire. Ron was glad they'd had the foresight to bring a pre-made meal rather than take a chance on the various plants in the forest. But after they'd eaten, Hermione had insisted she needed to read through one of her case files for Monday, and Ron had decided to give her some space without argument. As much as he wanted to spend time together, it was true they hadn't had time to themselves in awhile, either.

Everyone had always told him that having a baby would change things, but he supposed he hadn't quite believed them until it had happened. Rose was beautiful, and he loved her more than anyone (except Hermione, of course), but there were days that Ron longed for the ease of his and Hermione's first year or so of marriage. Parenting was a full time job on top of the ones they already held. It was all worth it, of course, worth it a thousand times over just to see their little daughter smile up at them - but it was far more challenging than Ron had really expected.

Parts of it were better than he'd thought it would be. He reckoned he was doing a better job at the whole fatherhood thing than he'd first believed he could. He hadn't made any big mistakes, at least, and he could always make Rose giggle with his goofy faces. He'd taken care of her himself plenty of times when Hermione wasn't around, and he'd done it just as well - though the lack of milk-producing breasts made him just a bit less appealing to Rose. They were going to start weaning her off the stuff soon, though, and then he'd be just as capable of performing every caretaking duty required. All in all, he was a decent dad, and Hermione was an _excellent_ mum. Their little family was very nearly perfect.

Still, something was missing - or rather, it had been lost beneath a large pile of other things. It was as though, Ron reflected, they'd temporarily forgotten how to be Ron-and-Hermione after they'd become Mummy-and-Daddy-and-Rose. Now, at least, they'd learned how to be the _new_ Ron-and-Hermione, though they were almost unrecognizable from the pre-parenthood version of themselves. It wasn't a bad thing, not entirely, but it hadn't been an easy transition. The worst part, really, was that Ron couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about the change that still bothered him from time to time. Disconnected thoughts raced through his mind as he stared up at the stars through the gaps in the trees, searching for the answer to a question he wasn't sure how to ask.

Nearly an hour must've passed by the time Hermione came wandering out of the tent, a large blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Wordlessly, she moved to lie down on the ground next to him, spreading the blanket over them before entangling the fingers of her right hand with those of his left. He squeezed her hand lightly as he turned his head to bestow a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"You alright?" she asked quietly, her eyes trained on the stars above them. Ron almost laughed out loud - she knew him entirely too well.

"Yeah, " he answered noncommittally.

"Hmm," Hermione hummed thoughtfully. "It's nice to have some down time."

"Yeah," Ron repeated. "For awhile, anyway. It's almost too quiet out here."

Hermione chuckled. "I was sort of wondering whether we were masochists for trying camping again."

"Reckon we have to do it every few years," Ron said, turning his head back to look at her and smirking a bit. "You know, to remind ourselves why we hate it."

Hermione turned to meet his eyes and smiled softly. "It's a bit nicer this time, at least." She paused for a minute, her brow furrowing almost apologetically. "Were...were you thinking about last time?"

"Nah," Ron dismissed. "Not much, anyway. Been trying not to. It seems like another lifetime."

Hermione hummed her agreement, letting go of his hand and turning further onto her side so she could snuggle against him properly. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed contentedly. "I miss this," he murmured. "That's what I was thinking about."

"I know what you mean," Hermione said softly. "We're different now, aren't we?"

"Reckon so," Ron agreed. "I love you anyway, though."

Hermione laughed loudly, and the sound of it made Ron smile widely. "Comforting," she drawled sarcastically.

"I think so," Ron teased, rubbing the small of her back tenderly as he spoke. "Three years on and we don't hate each other yet."

Though she kept her face hidden, pressed against his chest, Ron could practically feel her roll her eyes. "I could never hate you."

"Likewise," Ron replied simply, allowing his eyes to slide shut as he focused on the feeling of his wife's steady breathing, her chest rising and falling gently against his side.

"We should do this more often," Hermione murmured. "Not the camping bit, though."

"Mhm," Ron agreed. "Just the sex part. Ow. And the cuddling part," he added hastily after Hermione nudged him sharply. "You know you miss the sex, too."

"Well, yes," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "But that's not all being us is about."

"Yeah, I know," Ron replied, shifting a bit so that Hermione would look up at him. "I like being us."

"Even though it's different," Hermione finished, leaning forward to kiss him soundly on the mouth.

It was true, Ron thought as he tangled one of his hands in her hair. They'd changed so much over the years, since the last time they'd been here, even - they'd grown up, that was the short way of saying it. It was more than just that, though. The main thing, Ron realized hazily as he moaned in reaction to Hermione sliding her tongue into his mouth, was that they'd grown closer together. They were so deeply intimate with one another now - physically, emotionally, and otherwise - that it didn't matter that they'd changed. They were still just as in love as they'd been the last time they'd spent a night in this forest, probably even more so. That was what marriage was supposed to be, after all. It was going through every phase of their lives together, and loving each other all the more for it.

Much to Ron's chagrin, Hermione pulled back from their kiss after only a few blissful minutes, but she was quick to cut off his protests. "We should take this inside," she'd said with a cheeky grin, and he nearly stumbled over himself in his haste to stand up.

They made love for the second time that day, something that hadn't happened in well over a year. Part of Ron was surprised he still had the stamina, but he stifled that thought almost as soon as it had occurred - he was only twenty-six, after all. He may have experienced more than most wizards did in a lifetime, but it wouldn't do to be settling into an old man's state of mind quite yet. Instead, he focused on what had been his favorite pastime for the past three years - shagging his wife.

They didn't bother to redress afterward, as it was fairly warm outside. This was something Ron hadn't even realized he'd missed - they hadn't chanced sleeping naked since Rose had been born. Though it didn't _really_ matter, strictly speaking, both Ron and Hermione felt a bit strange about it, on the off chance that they'd end up traipsing through the house starkers whilst their baby daughter slept in the nursery.

"Love you," Hermione breathed as they settled in under the covers, her hand coming up to trace the contours of his chest. "And I missed you," she added as an afterthought. Ron didn't have to ask what she meant. There was a difference between seeing each other every day or sleeping next to each other every night and being together like this. Both were good, but that was the key - they needed both.

"We'll do this again soon," Ron yawned, though they both knew "soon" would likely have to wait several months. It was an unspoken truth that they both missed Rose far too much to make weekends like this too regular an occurrence, but it was still a bit of a bereavement, knowing this would be the last chance they'd have to simply be Ron-and-Hermione for quite some time. Their comfort lay in the fact that the interim would be worth absolutely everything.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, Ron spoke again, this time in scarcely more than a whisper. "You know I love you no matter what, yeah? Changes and all, I mean."

"Yes," Hermione said bemusedly, lifting her head a little so she could look at him properly. "Why?"

"I don't think I say it enough," Ron replied sleepily, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he looked up at her. He couldn't help it - she always looked so pretty after they shagged, with her wild hair and her bright eyes and her flushed cheeks. The fact that he was the only one that ever got to see her like this made it better, if that was even possible.

"You don't have to," Hermione reminded him, bringing her left hand out from under her to display her wedding band. "But it's nice to hear," she added softly, leaning down and kissing him lightly once more, "especially considering I'll love you for the rest of our lives."

"The whole thing's a bit easier when it's mutual," Ron added knowingly, thanking the stars that were undoubtedly still shining brightly somewhere above the tent that this mental yet brilliant woman had chosen to be his wife.

"I'm happy you're my husband," Hermione murmured as she settled back in, turning over on her side so that they could sleep with her back to his chest. It was uncanny sometimes, Ron thought, how in tune she was to what he was thinking. "And I'm happy you're Rose's dad."

"We've done well for ourselves, haven't we?" Ron asked, settling in and wrapping an arm around her from behind.

"We have," Hermione confirmed quietly, and Ron couldn't help but grin widely, knowing her expression matched his.

As they drifted off to sleep, Ron thought vaguely of the last time they'd camped in this forest, of all that had changed since then, and of how very lucky he was that Hermione Granger, who was now called Hermione Weasley, was still by his side all these years later. It wasn't perfect, and it never had been, but it was _theirs_, and that was all he'd ever need.

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A/N: I don't think there was a single cuss word this entire piece. Strange, isn't it? Hope you enjoyed this fluffy little outtake thing. I don't know that they'd ever really want to go back to the Forest of Dean, but I thought it was a neat way to tie-in to the prompt. It was nice to get back into writing Ron and Hermione after taking a bit of a break from them for the past week - hopefully I'll be able to harness this momentum and make some significant progress on the multi-chapter I keep babbling on about. Thank you for reading :)


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